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When the blood of the red grassland soaked the lines of the Blackfire sword, Daemon Blackfire's roar was cut off by the poisonous arrow-- The rebel who caused the division of the Seven Kingdoms actually opened his eyes on Dragonstone a hundred years ago. True dragons still hovered in the sky in 97 AC, the fuse of the Dance of Blood Dragons had not yet been ignited, and he became a vague footnote in the Targaryen genealogy-- "Prince Aemon is an orphan, his mother is unknown." The black dragon mark on the shoulder burns like coals, resonating with the roar of the glutton deep in the dragon's lair; The "ancestors" in front of me are as vivid as knives: "The Uncrowned Queen" Rhaenys's purple eyes hide her ambition, "The Wandering Prince" Daemon Targaryen's sword edge reflects the arrogance of a young man, and "The Human King" Jaehaerys' cough is wrapped in the weight of the Iron Throne. He was once the "black dragon" who tried to overthrow Targaryen, but now he rides the most ferocious wild dragon, Glutton, and dances in the sky with his great-grandfather of the same name. When the afterimage of the Black Fire Sword intertwined with the glutton's dragon flames in the sky above King's Landing, he finally understood: the fate of traveling through hundreds of years has never been about recreating the bloody path of rebellion-- But on the eve of the Dance of the Blood Dragon, before all the tragedies have been written, I want to ask those ancestors who share the same blood: Should your glory in the name of "blood and fire" burn into a torch of redemption or a wildfire of destruction? The ashes of the red grassland fell into the sulfur mist of Dragonstone Island, and a black dragon from the future was using its rebellious minions to pry the most fragile link of the Targaryen dynasty.